"The air up there in the clouds is vey pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be? - it is the same the angels breathe." - Mark Twain, Roughing It
Sometimes flights are short and easy. Sometimes they are long and easy. Sometimes they are short and heinous, or long and heinous, especially with babies and sick people. No matter what the circumstances, I would usually rather deal with the screaming baby than drive myself because after about 2 hours in a car I can get pretty testy.
Story time:
Once upon a time, I was traveling to our nation's capital with one of my dearest friends to visit two of my other dearest friends. It was a blessed occasion of being reunited. In order to get to DC from Arkansas, we chose to fly due to time constraints, and my feelings about car rides. (See above comment.) As with most flights from Arkansas, this one had a layover. All flights departed on time, and we caught all of them as well, which was a miracle since our layover was in Atlanta. (You know EXACTLY what I mean if you have ever had a layover in Atlanta.) So we were well on our way to Arlington, Virginia, to meet our long lost boon companion for the first time in ages when this strange jolt and hard pelting sound met our aircraft. Now, I paid ZERO attention to this. I was under the impression that the landing gear was just let down a little too rapidly, or that the wind had caught the wheels as they were being released or something. After all, the captain had just announced that we were only (20? 300? 2000?) miles from landing. I kept looking out the window and minding my own business, blissfully ignorant and oblivious to anything amiss. There was this faint alarm sounding from the back of the plane, and I suppose on some level, I could hear it, but honest to Pete it never filtered onto my radar that an alarm going off on an airplane was something I might ought to be concerned about.
Only later did I discover that, my dearest friend Lacey sitting next to me was HIGHLY concerned about the proceedings on the airplane. One of the SUPER-D-DUPER flight attendants was doing NOTHING to keep people calm as she constantly ran up and down the aisle to look out over the wings and check for God only knows what. (Did she think there would be an answer in the clouds or a gremlin on the wing of the plane holding up a socket wrench like the one in that Bugs Bunny cartoon? I have no idea.) I started to come out of my dream-like state of watching the clouds and the landscape pass by when the crazed flight attendant came on over the loud speaker to announce, rather nervously, that there was something wrong with the plane, and that we may have to land at an airport other than the one I bought a ticket to.
Now y'all, at this time, you would think that I would have started worrying just a little bit. But the loco thing is, that I was JUST as nonchalant as before. I just thought she was overreacting and irritating everyone on the plane. What a nuisance. But Lacey was buying into the "there's an actual problem" scenario.
So after about the third time that the, by now, loony-toons flight attendant came over the loud speaker, the cool, calm, and collected pilot spoke up, breaking into her panicked recitations. He called to my attention the faint but ever-present alarm sounding, announced that one of the engines had encountered a slight problem, suggested that perhaps a large bird had been sucked up in it, and told us that we would be landing at the airport we paid good money for as soon as we could. Thank you and have a nice day.
It was at this point that I started to realize something might actually be wrong with the plane. After all, if the pilot was talking at us, that meant something, right? The Potomac River had come into my line of sight and that made me keep calm because I knew that meant we had to be real close. (At this point, I'm still not overly concerned, and I haven't even asked Lacey if she's doing ok, because it hasn't really occurred to me to worry.) It was only once the Potomac started getting closer and CLOSER to me that I started to get REALLY concerned REALLY fast. This may be a slight exaggeration, but I thought it was a wonder that the landing gear wasn't dragging through the water as we passed over, because that river was WAY to close to me for comfort. The last thing I wanted to do was filter through my brain and remember how to use my seat as a floatation device. God knows the last time I listened to what a flight attendant was saying about safety evacuations was many moons ago.
Hold your horses, we didn't land in the river. I repeat, we did not land in the river. In no time, we were making an "emergency" landing on the tarmac and waiting for an emergency crew to come check out the plane. Relief was rolling in waves off of every passenger as some of them had started making jokes about "close calls" and the like, Lacey and I were smiling and laughing about our brush with plane malfunction (death). We enjoyed each other's company and took pictures as several firemen rushed onto the plane to make sure nothing was on fire. Now that I think about it, the cabin was a little smoky….
We had to wait a little while to be towed to the terminal and by then we had let our friends and family know that, yes, our plane had almost crash landed in the Potomac, but we survived and would be getting off the plane verra shortly.
The moral of this story is that in an emergency plane situation, one should just remain oblivious. It makes the experience that much easier. And also, if you survive a goose in the engine (although that was never officially confirmed), you might just get credit towards your next flight, which is pretty John Brown awesome.
Story time:
Once upon a time, I was traveling to our nation's capital with one of my dearest friends to visit two of my other dearest friends. It was a blessed occasion of being reunited. In order to get to DC from Arkansas, we chose to fly due to time constraints, and my feelings about car rides. (See above comment.) As with most flights from Arkansas, this one had a layover. All flights departed on time, and we caught all of them as well, which was a miracle since our layover was in Atlanta. (You know EXACTLY what I mean if you have ever had a layover in Atlanta.) So we were well on our way to Arlington, Virginia, to meet our long lost boon companion for the first time in ages when this strange jolt and hard pelting sound met our aircraft. Now, I paid ZERO attention to this. I was under the impression that the landing gear was just let down a little too rapidly, or that the wind had caught the wheels as they were being released or something. After all, the captain had just announced that we were only (20? 300? 2000?) miles from landing. I kept looking out the window and minding my own business, blissfully ignorant and oblivious to anything amiss. There was this faint alarm sounding from the back of the plane, and I suppose on some level, I could hear it, but honest to Pete it never filtered onto my radar that an alarm going off on an airplane was something I might ought to be concerned about.
Only later did I discover that, my dearest friend Lacey sitting next to me was HIGHLY concerned about the proceedings on the airplane. One of the SUPER-D-DUPER flight attendants was doing NOTHING to keep people calm as she constantly ran up and down the aisle to look out over the wings and check for God only knows what. (Did she think there would be an answer in the clouds or a gremlin on the wing of the plane holding up a socket wrench like the one in that Bugs Bunny cartoon? I have no idea.) I started to come out of my dream-like state of watching the clouds and the landscape pass by when the crazed flight attendant came on over the loud speaker to announce, rather nervously, that there was something wrong with the plane, and that we may have to land at an airport other than the one I bought a ticket to.
Now y'all, at this time, you would think that I would have started worrying just a little bit. But the loco thing is, that I was JUST as nonchalant as before. I just thought she was overreacting and irritating everyone on the plane. What a nuisance. But Lacey was buying into the "there's an actual problem" scenario.
So after about the third time that the, by now, loony-toons flight attendant came over the loud speaker, the cool, calm, and collected pilot spoke up, breaking into her panicked recitations. He called to my attention the faint but ever-present alarm sounding, announced that one of the engines had encountered a slight problem, suggested that perhaps a large bird had been sucked up in it, and told us that we would be landing at the airport we paid good money for as soon as we could. Thank you and have a nice day.
It was at this point that I started to realize something might actually be wrong with the plane. After all, if the pilot was talking at us, that meant something, right? The Potomac River had come into my line of sight and that made me keep calm because I knew that meant we had to be real close. (At this point, I'm still not overly concerned, and I haven't even asked Lacey if she's doing ok, because it hasn't really occurred to me to worry.) It was only once the Potomac started getting closer and CLOSER to me that I started to get REALLY concerned REALLY fast. This may be a slight exaggeration, but I thought it was a wonder that the landing gear wasn't dragging through the water as we passed over, because that river was WAY to close to me for comfort. The last thing I wanted to do was filter through my brain and remember how to use my seat as a floatation device. God knows the last time I listened to what a flight attendant was saying about safety evacuations was many moons ago.
Hold your horses, we didn't land in the river. I repeat, we did not land in the river. In no time, we were making an "emergency" landing on the tarmac and waiting for an emergency crew to come check out the plane. Relief was rolling in waves off of every passenger as some of them had started making jokes about "close calls" and the like, Lacey and I were smiling and laughing about our brush with plane malfunction (death). We enjoyed each other's company and took pictures as several firemen rushed onto the plane to make sure nothing was on fire. Now that I think about it, the cabin was a little smoky….
We had to wait a little while to be towed to the terminal and by then we had let our friends and family know that, yes, our plane had almost crash landed in the Potomac, but we survived and would be getting off the plane verra shortly.
The moral of this story is that in an emergency plane situation, one should just remain oblivious. It makes the experience that much easier. And also, if you survive a goose in the engine (although that was never officially confirmed), you might just get credit towards your next flight, which is pretty John Brown awesome.
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